My bed is a sheep dip
For the rams of South London,
With thier creaking cocks and practiced wit;
They leave on thier socks.
But I want much more.
So a sparkling idea
Glistens in my head
Of shagging,
And love,
And Ikea.
So I won't have to feel
The shadow on my bed,
Who's not even here.
But dreaming of someone he met before.
Somebody he took his socks off for